Nathan collected a candelabra, lighting it as he fought off a yawn. Then heading out into the hallway, Nathan guided Mark toward the castle library. Outside the frozen crystals fell to the ground to shatter before the dark clouds and rain slowly rolled back in. The soft rain pattered against the windows as Nathan pushed open the library door and told Mark. "This is it." While Mark slipped inside, Nathan told one of the guards outside nicely. "Can you send someone to go wake Lord Sorenson?" The guard nodded, rushing off. While Mark asked him curiously. "Who is he?" Nathan smirked, walking about the library to light the candles as he answered coolly. "He is our historian. He tutored me in Arendelle's history. If anyone can give you the answers you are looking for. It's him. He knows this library inside and out." Mark smirked, glancing down at the paper with the symbols, before telling him swiftly. "Alright. Well... Until he gets here. Any ideas on where to start?" Looking around at the large library, Nathan told Mark with a shrug. "Not really... but there must be some books in here about symbols. So... I'll start at one end in the family crest section, and we'll meet in the middle?" Mark rolled his eyes but nodded.

Removing a book, Nathan went to a table and sat down to flip through it. Not long after a servant bustled in with a tray of hot tea, telling him a bit sleepily. "There you are, Majesty. Here is your tea. In the mood for some late night studying, huh? Got a test coming up?" She chuckled and Nathan guiltily blushed out. "No test. We are just trying to find out something." The woman removed a cloth to handle the teapot as she poured him some tea, asking curiously. "Really? May I ask what has you vexed at this hour, Highness?" Nathan gestured for Mark to slid him the paper. He then turned the paper for her to see and told her with a shrug. "We are trying to find out what these mean... but I'm lost. I don't know where to start looking." She finished making his tea and set it aside for him, then asked Mark sweetly. "Would you like some, Sir?" Mark nodded and thanked her. Before she started to make the tea for Mark, she looked at the paper and said openly. "Oh, those. I've seen them. They are those creepy stones outside the Enchanted Forest up North." Nathan looked up from his book, asking a little shocked. "Are you sure? How do you know?"

The servant blushed a little, then answered a little embarrassed. "I was seeing a soldier a few years back. He used to draw those symbols all the time. Said they haunted his memory after the war... I think he called them... the guardian stones? No... That's not right. The weather stones? I can't remember. But he said they were scary and held magical properties of some kind." Nathan closed his book, while Mark mumbled out to himself. "Weather stones...? The element stones?" The servant set a cup down in front of Mark, chipperly interjecting. "That's them! The element stones. Some Northuldran landmark thing. If you go up North, you can still see them. They stand before the Enchant Forest that is shrouded in mist so thick... you can't see the trees anymore. Why the sudden interest in those things?" Mark rushed back to the bookshelf, while Nathan told her calmly. "Just brushing up on some history. I recalled them but couldn't think of their names. It was keeping me up." The servant chuckled, telling them both as she took the tray out. "Aren't those just the worst? Well, I'm happy to help. I hope you can rest now, Highness. Give a shout if you need me again."

Nathan waved to her, then jumped as Mark slammed a heavy book down and flipped it open. Seeking out the index, Mark uttered something to himself before flipping to a page number. When he reached it, Nathan stood up and they both looked over the drawing of the stones that he'd seen in his dream. Upon each stone was one of the symbols. Pointing to them, Mark told him softly. "That's where I've seen them before. I've ridden up North and have seen them myself a long time ago." Slowly sitting back down, Nathan asked curiously. "But why am I dreaming about them? And how did you know about my dream?" Mark quickly told him about his ability to show a snowy version of his dream, before saying a bit distant after. "I don't know why you're dreaming about them... but it might be tied to your powers after all." Nathan sipped his tea, blinking a bit confused. Mark read a page or two of the book, before pushing it away and telling him swiftly. "Useless. Whoever wrote this had no idea what they were." Walking off to the bookshelf, Mark told him more informatively. "I think your power is upsetting the stones. Throwing them off balance."

Nathan scoffed, blurting out as he turned in his chair a bit. "That's a bit of a stretch. Don't you think?" Mark moved books around, asking him casually in return. "Is it? The Trolls believe in four strong elements. Earth. Air. Fire, and Water. They use these elements in a way that is harmonized. While your power... It's not the same. It didn't come from acquiring an element crystal that allows you to channel it. You weren't born with it. Your power was forced upon you and came from the most powerful source of magic in our history. Ahtohallan." Nathan nodded, mumbling out. "Ok. I'm with you so far. Go on." Mark removed a book, then turned to look at him as he said simply. "What if your power is growing? What if the element stones fear that? What if without knowing it... you have caused an imbalance in nature itself?" Nathan chuckled nervously, blurting out uneasily. "But I have my power under control. It's just stress getting to me. Making me restless." Mark moved back to the table, setting down the book carefully as he said seriously. "What if it's not? What if you've broken through your limit? What if we didn't stop it... We just made it stronger?"

Nathan leaned back, asking just as seriously. "Explain." Mark picked up the book, telling him cool and clearly. "You remember what I told you about bottling your power? How as you grow, the power within you grows too. That the bottle has to be opened to release the pressure?" Nathan nodded, answering bluntly. "Yes. And I use my power all the time now. I'm under control." Mark held the book out to draw his attention to it, before telling him slow and clear. "Yes. You have. But now I want you to picture this. This book is the maximum level of your powers. It is your limit. Your outburst was nothing more than a few chapters that were allowed to finally get read and flipped through. Every page you turn, you get stronger. You learn a new thing you are able to do, or your understanding of your power is allowed to grow." Nathan nodded but stayed quiet. Allowing Mark to say bluntly. "Now imagine that you have surpassed this level. Think for a moment what allowing your power to expand and evolve into something more could do." Nathan licked his lips slowly, while Mark continued gently. "What if your power is getting restless because it is about to transition into something bigger and far stronger than you might be ready for?"

Nathan exhaled heavily, mumbling out as he ran his fingers along the neck of his robe. "Mark... You're scaring me. You don't know that will happen." Mark set down the book, telling him brutally honest. "You don't know that it won't either. Nathan, your power is tied to Ahtohallan. The birthplace of magic. Its power is limitless... but your ability to control it may not be." Nathan swallowed, holding his cup a little closer to his chest. What Mark was saying did make sense. The storm in his bedroom was kind of proof enough that his powers were growing beyond even his consciousness. Inching closer to him, Mark kneeled and took ahold of his wrist as he told him lovingly. "This voice that you're hearing. I don't know what it wants... but be careful. I think it might be safer to ignore it... for now. Until we can look into this more." Nathan licked his lips, saying timidly. "But you said-?" Mark nodded, bowing his head, when he told him. "I know what I said... but Nathan... You froze the rain and turned it into little shards with the symbols of the Element Stones. What if it's a warning...? All I'm saying is that we should be careful and think this through."

Nathan took a deep breath and was about to agree, until Mark looked up and did a sudden double take. Rising to his feet, he moved away, prompting Nathan to say instead. "Mark? What's wrong?" Mark stopped before an oil painting that had the painted image of his grandfather and his young father. Mark pointed to the painting, asking him curiously. "Nate... That sword that the man has. Isn't that...?" Nathan moved closer, telling him coolly. "Ya. That sword belonged to my grandfather. King Runeard. The same one Hans attacked me with. He took it from here." Nathan glanced around, then moved to pick up the sword that was wrapped and propped up in the corner. Carefully unwrapping it, he told Mark calmly. "It's all that was left of him after the war. A villager fished it from the fjord for a reward. I had it polished and repaired. The servants just didn't put it back up yet." Completely unwrapping it, Nathan moved up to the small bookcase and very carefully set the long sword onto the metal holder beneath the picture. The moment it was set in place, something clicked, and the bookcase started to make a strange noise.

Mark pulled him back quickly and they both watched as the little bookcase slowly slid aside to reveal a little hidden room. Nathan gawked at it, saying aloud in disbelief. "What in the world...? I thought I knew all of the passages in the castle..." Mark smirked to him, chuckling out lightly. "Missed one." Letting out a chuckle, Nathan swatted Mark playfully as he said. "Clearly. Come on. Let's check it out." Taking a lit candle off a table, Nathan walked inside slowly and softly stated out. "Wow. Look at this, Mark. It's like a... private study room?" Easing in more, Nathan took in the desk and little fireplace. There were shelves with books and shelves with bottled liquids and herbs. Even more herbs hung from the ceiling and on the walls between large maps of Arendelle and Misthaven. There were even scroll racks with a few dusty scrolls. Behind him, Mark stepped inside and sniffed the air, before commenting lightly. "Smells nice. I was expecting a grimy smell or dusty... but this looks. Used." Nathan moved to the fireplace, cautiously reaching in to touch the ashes. Shaking his head, he told Mark honestly. "Not lately though. The ashes are old. A few years old at least."

Moving up to a bookcase, Mark ran his fingers along the spines as he read aloud with interest. "Magical Arts. Healing Potions and Ancient Remedies. How to Remove Hexes and Curses. Dangers of Dark Magic. Nathan... someone was studying magic." Nathan wandered around the room to the deck, stating aloud. "But why...? Who would...?" Nathan stopped talking as a little journal on the table caught his attention. Picking it up carefully, he opened it slowly and skimmed through the handwritten pages. Flipping the pages a bit more, he stopped at a hand drawn image of his hands and a pair of gloves that he used to wear. Gulping, he shakily read the paragraph a bit, before telling Mark timidly. "They were studying me too..." Mark dropped his hand from the bookcase, asking Nathan perplexed and a little shocked. "What? What does it say?" Nathan turned a bit to face Mark, reading the entry aloud. "I can find no record of a human with power like his, but for the ancient myths with their tragic fates." Slowly looking up from the journal, Nathan told Mark with teary eyes. "It's written in my mother's handwriting." Mark gave him a small smile, telling him rather warmly. "She was trying to help you."

Nathan slowly sank down into a chair by the desk, holding the journal to his chest a moment. Then lowering the book, he tried to read a few more pages, but told Mark coolly. "Some of these pages are in english... but some of them I can't read. They are written in... Northuldran?" Mark put a hand on his shoulder, exploring the room a bit more as he told him over his shoulder. "Makes sense. She was being converted like a lot of the Northuldran kids after the war. Probably worked hard to keep her secret. To blend in." Kneeling, Mark removed a little wooden chest from a shelf to peer inside, while adding gently. "That explains a lot about how your parents knew about the Trolls and why they kept you hidden. They were working to find a cure or a way to help you control it... but having never used magic themselves... they were a bit out of their league." Nathan found one of the last entries in the journal, reading aloud grimly. "Whatever my people did. Whatever darkness still roams our forest. I can no longer turn my back on the past. I must find a way to go home. I must ask her to save my son..."

Closing the book, Nathan hugged it to his chest and sniffled. He missed her so much. He didn't want to cry but his eyes started to water. Mark suddenly draped a purple shawl over his shoulders. Nathan touched it and felt the tears fall down his cheeks when he told Mark weakly. "This was my mother's... I looked everywhere for it after she died. I thought maybe she took it with her." Mark ran a hand through his hair, prompting Nathan to hug him. Holding him in his arms, Mark kissed his temple. Setting down the journal on the desk, Nathan hugged him tighter. Until the voice of an older man asked aloud. "Your highness? You summoned me?" Sniffling, Nathan got to his feet and hugged the shawl tighter as he replied aloud. "Yes. Just a moment, Lord Sorenson." Mark gave him a little kiss on the cheek to comfort him, then patted his butt to coax him from the secret room. Stepping out, Mark slid the bookcase back into place. Nathan expected to have to explain about it, but old Lord Sorenson just sat in a chair at a table completely unfazed by the discovery of the secret room. To Be Continued...